95Please respect copyright.PENANApNgOBDmwNqThe door is now being bashed from outside.
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WHAM!
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The room gasps as Metro instinctively opens the latch.
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A swarm of farmhands, men and women pour into the chamber, gasping, crying, terrified.
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Metro gets a glimpse of Paul’s green aura. Just a split second catching eye contact—
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SLAM!
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Metro can hear Paul’s heavy footsteps run down the corridor.
Rose swiftly locks the latch, looking at Metro’s eyes, face still flamed, he's unreadable.
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MANHALL - CONTINUED -
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Paul bursts into the main hall, boots slick with dust and split stew. Lutheran is already there, back against the watchtower stairwell, crossbow held tight across his chest like an M16-
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Lutheran:(jaw clenched)
“Mathias is past the front gate! I’ve sent four men upstairs—”
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He snaps his finger at Gregory.
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“Find Matt! Bring him back if you can!”
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Gregory dashes past them, cape flapping. Lutheran looks back at Paul.
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Lutheran:(bellowing furiously)
“What are you thinking?”
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Dozens of soldiers stare at Paul behind Lutheran.
Paul scans the hall—fast, densely, analyzing.
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Paul:
“They should have surrounded us! We have to protect the others.”
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Lutheran eyes narrow—He reaches behind him and hands Paul a large twin set of hand held mallets.
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A faint green toxic glow is already leaking from behind Paul’s skin. Lutheran sees it—a flicker of fear and respect in his eyes.
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Lutheran:
“I trust you brother.” Take my men and search the fields!"
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—Paul is disturbed, shaken by the responsibility—but he pushes through—
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Paul: (holding dual wielded mallets)
“You take the high ground then!”
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They split—evacuating to their separate paths with speed and agility.
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- 40 Acres—haunted Crop Field—
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Paul steps into the darkened crop field with ten soldiers behind him—bows drawn, shields out.
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The world changes suddenly.
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The blackened forest is dense, haunting and alive— rows of potent bushes sprawling in the night’s wind.
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The scent hits them like freight train—
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A temporary euphoric trance begins to birth.
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The soldiers stagger from the impending trance.
They breathe slowly. The spell has taken effect.
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The plants themselves seem to feel afraid — their energy trembling, reaching towards Paul, as if to grab his hand for safety.
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Paul can feel this peculiar power. He feels them.
A protector. A guardian.
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A chosen.
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He clutches the mallets tighter, furrowing his brow, eyes piercing towards the moon light, open hands and shoulders.
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Rain begins to fall — soft at first, then a bit harder. The forest darkens deeply.
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“ Spread Out. Slow, steady.”
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He leads them deeper, crouched, slow, persistent.
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FRONT FIELD — NEAR WHISPERING FOREST —
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Deeper into the whispering forest, the bandits retreat into the shadows.
Mathias’s men chase blindly, frantically, slipping on mud, swinging wildly. Mathias tries to keep up — but his hammer is enormous.
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The handle is solid oak. The head is bigger than his torso. The whole weapon is as big as him.
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He slows.
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Gasping for breath, dropping to one knee. Panting. Gregory spots him and sprints over.
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“CAPTAIN! Captain get up!”
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Mathias tries.
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Mathias:
"I need juice!”
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Gregory pulls out a vial of clear liquid, pops it open.
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- scene switch -
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- UPSTAIRS - FRONT WATCHTOWERS -
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The four archers Lutheran sent reach the upper front battlement towers. They stop in their tracks.
Two watchmen on the left and right towers are slumped against the wall - not dead, not wounded - asleep.
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Deeply. Naturally. Breathing slowly.
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The air is thick in the night masked in a frosty haze — The scent of glow leaf drifts upward from the fields.
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One archer whispers .
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Archer:
Chad ... Are they sleeping?
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Another guard sways blinking hard.
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Chad:(whispering loudly)
“Cover your nose and mouth. Don’t pass out.”
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Then-
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Lutheran crashes in from downstairs. He sees the guards sleeping in the front towers. He commands two of his archers to wake the guards while he and one archer crouch, hurrying to the right tower.
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Lutheran shakes one guard and slaps the other in the face.
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Lutheran(whispering loudly)
" Wake up you idiot!
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Now there are eight conscious archers on the top front battlements.
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Chad (somewhat afraid)
“I can hold position at the watchtower fifty meters on the left!”
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Lutheran cringes, enraged.
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Lutheran (signals left side to push)
“The rest, move.”
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All archers but two push towards the back wall battlement slowly. Leaving Chad and Sam to post the front towers alone.
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The remaining six split quietly.
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Three towards the back left tower.
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Three with Lutheran towards the back right.
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Rain pours harder in the night sky.
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Boots splash on stone. Breaths tighten.
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The three archers move swiftly, bows drawn, checking surroundings, on the mid left: battlement walkway. They stop.
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An assassin sits unnoticed.
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He’s alone, perched on the middle tower, like a hawk ready to strike. Eyes glimmering red. He sees them. He smiles.
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A wet dagger flashes through the rain –
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THUNK!
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One archer drops instantly.
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The assassin leaps from the tower, landing on all fours, crawling hauntingly close.
He’s on the second archer before the man can scream.
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Steel sinks in.
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The third archer rushes, drawing his sword –
They slam into the wall, unnaturally fast, wrestling, boots scraping wet stone, grinding, sliding the men off balance in the rain.
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The assassin’s breath is cold on his neck.
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– BACK WALL INSIDE A GARAGE –
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The hooded bandits move like animated reapers in a cartoonish nightmare. More infiltrate the back wall from the top ledges.
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Many are on the field, scythes swinging in swift motions, stalks falling, with soft creaks, and crashes. Whole trees collapse slowly, like a domino effect in stilled time.
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Barely any sound is heard, as the reaper bandits carry bushed bundles, wrapped tight in navy blue cloth — and load them into a massive slingshot contraption, driven with two wooden stakes to hold the band.
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Two bandits pull the ropes.
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THWIP — THWIP —
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Crop bundles launch over the back wall, disappearing into the night. Outside, the three blue eyed generals catch the bundles, and load them into the lantern lit carriages.
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Efficiency in the night. Silent. Practiced.
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MOUNTAIN RIDGE - CAT'S CAMP -
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MILES SOUTH OF CASTLE
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Up on the deathly hallow.
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Near the edge of Cat's camp entrance stands a pale war horse, eyes black like its master.
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The man sitting on that horse sits mounted, fitting perfectly with the charred and twisted trees, swaying behind him on the blackened cliffs.
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A fire burns behind him at his camp's entrance.
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He sits tall on his terrible beast.
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A crow comes, making a bit of noise, landing on his shoulder.
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Cat's shadowy face is unreadable. He has a bit of chin hair and a fade buzz cut with design patterns in his hair.
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Tattoos cover his neck and forearms.
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His leather outfit is black, with brown pockets, and a feathered cloak that drips rain from its bottom.
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Cat puts his telescope to his eye.
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— scene switch —
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METRO'S CHAMBER BEDROOM -
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All farmhands sit quietly in the corner of the room.
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Strawhat looks out of the window, watching Sally, Gregory, Mathias, and 50 infantry scatter bandits in the dampened hayfields.
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Metro paces back and forth, from his bed to the door.
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Lilly and Rose sit on his bed. The farmhands watch him with wide eyes.
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Some are crying. Some are frozen. All are terrified.
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Metro stops suddenly, yanks open his dresser, and grabs his holster of ten daggers, his cloak.
He heads straight for the door.
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The farmhands gasp — a collective inhale of fear.
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Rose lunges from the bed, grabbing his arm aggressively.
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Rose: (shaking, voice cracking)
"METRO, NO!"
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Metro turns halfway — not fully — not meeting her eyes.
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His face is carved with fear and determination.
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White light begins to flicker in his pupils.
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METRO: (voice cracking, belief forming)
"I HAVE TO FIND SALLY..."
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Strawhat approaches Metro from the window, his sandals smacking loudly in the tense room.
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STRAW HAT: (stares at Metro, tears forming)
"I'm afraid too, but I think you know what you gotta do."
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Metro and Strawhat lock into each other intensely.
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Rose's face burns in flames, panic and horror.
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Lilly stands from the bed.
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Metro turns for the door.
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— scene switch —
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TOP FLOOR — TOWARD BACK RIGHT TOWER —
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Three red eyed assassins are each on top of the back wall towers. One right, left, and middle. Their scouting, patrolling the theft happening below them.
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They perch like goblins in the dark rain.
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Witnessing crop bundles being shot beside and over them.
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Sickles continue to reap tree trunks while sling contraptions are worked, catapulting fresh greens in the stormy weather.
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Three other assassins stand behind barrels close to the middle-right gate tower.
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Their eyes glow faintly ruby.
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They seem cautious.
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Their blades drip rainwater. Their footsteps make no sound.
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switch scene -
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Lutheran leads his three man band of archers forward, crouched low in the humidity. Every step feels like an eternity.
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The rain. The wind. The scent of glowleaf drifting.
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Lutheran stops, gripping his crossbow. He hears a distant scream, a struggle. His armor shifts crouched, as his neck snaps. His men hear it too, freezing them.
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They take cover behind the stone railing, peering over the balcony at the dark landscapes.
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They move only because Lutheran is behind them.
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(slow motion)
A sparkling ball flickers in the sky, incoming from the back right battlements.
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The sizzling clay clump thuds near them. —
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— THEN —
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FW O O O M!!! - (pressure explodes)
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Bodies fly in different directions, helplessly.
Lutheran dives behind stacked crates for cover, heart pounding.
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He closes his eyes.
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Looks up at the sky.
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Breathes once looking forward.
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Then pushes.
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(Time slows)
(Lutheran's INSTINCTS)
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Rain hangs in the air like beads of glass.
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Lutheran raises his crossbow.
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TWANG —
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The first shot hits an assassin square in the chest.
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Flaming arrows streak toward him, they collect behind wooden boxes stacked highly.
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He barely moves — sliding behind cover with inhuman speed.
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Drops his crossbow.
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Switches to his bow,
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Kneels.
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Draws.
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Pokes his head out just enough —
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THWIP —
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Arrow through the second assassin's throat.
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He ducks back even faster this time,
Stands.
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Draws.
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Leans out again, lightning fast —THWIP —
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Headshot.
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The last assassin drops with a heavy thud, on wet stone.
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Silence.
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Lutheran looks down at his thigh, it's bleeding badly. He drops to one knee, gripping the wound, breathing hard.
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But alive.
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— switch scene —
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Front of Forty Acreage
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- INSIDE BATTLE TERRITORY -
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Sally walks through the main hall, into the open acreage. She's just underneath the commotion, a distance away.
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She senses Metro, that he's coming for her.
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She keeps trotting along the darkened acreage, rained upon, with a slow crawl to her step. Her head drops, sniffing the dirt, now forming into mud.
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In the distance, Paul can be seen through Sally's eyes, just his aura merging with the trees. Green, and gathering strength. Sally's not close enough to reach him. Her aura glows white, brightened with fear and instinct.
She assesses the tinted, wet, acreage:
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She knows danger is everywhere, surrounding her.
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She waits.
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A ways away an explosion can be seen on the top middle battlements. Armored archer bodies flying over the cliff, landing hard in the soil, debris of wood chips and rocks in the air. Smoke mixing in with the wet soil and potent bloom scents.
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Paul and the ten soldiers freeze as they hear the detonation's ripple through the castle fortress.
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The explosion echoes through the fields.
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The bandits hear it too — the ones loading the stolen product. Everyone's heads snaps up. Hands tighten on scythes.
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Paul doesn't hesitate.
He closes the gap and collides with the reaper bandits, before they can react.
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Violent roaring can be heard as Paul smashes a bandit’s chest in from behind. Cage popping open outwardly, in a blooming petal motion, cracking ribs, severely.
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He swings left now, wild and brutal, crushing another’s skull with a sickening crack.
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Above them, fire breathing arrows are heard whistling from the tower walls, a steady rhythmic pace, flaming bushes, and trees.
An arrow hits a glowleaf tree rich in sappy oil—
It ignites-
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WHOOMPH--***
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****flames bursts in eruption, lighting the forested rows in a surreal blaze.
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The glow leaf trance intensifies everyone’s perception.
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Colors warp in sound and action. Shadows stretch farther than they should. Everything feels holy and horrifying all at once.— The soldiers look like angels in the firelight. The bandits look like hooded shadows , evil angels reaping souls from the earth.
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It feels like spirits are playing a chess match with human bodies, as their chosen trophies. Paul sees it — feels it — but can’t explain it. The smoke drifts through his face.
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But he's not there.
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Paul’s in a Haunted WonderLand.
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CAFETERIA – MAIN HALL – FRONTGATE
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Metro dashes down the upper corridor steps, leading to the cafeteria, his cloak snaps behind him like a shadow while he runs.
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He practically levitates, through the tables, boots barely touching the floor — weaving through overturned tables and spilt stew.
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He cuts through the main hall in a blur. Out the front gate. He looks for Sally at her post.
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She’s not there. His stomach drops
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He sprints down the dirt path — rain hitting his face — and hears shouting from the distant forest. He peers through the darkness and see’s Mathias and Gregory.
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Mathias is one one knee hunched over glowing, profusely red aura pulsing like a furnace.
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Metro freezes. He doesn’t know what this means.
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He tightens his grip on his daggers, scanning the treeline with sharp frantic eyes. He hears shouting from inside the forest, but can’t see beyond that.
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His eyes dart back and forth frantically.
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scene switch -
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— BACKWALL AREA – BATTLE —
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Paul’s back on two feet, teeth gritted, pushing through his elevated state.
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A massive bandit clubs Paul from the side, smashing into his neck area.
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He drops to one knee — A smaller bandit drop kicks him in the ribs — Paul hits the mud hard. His vision spins — The trance hits third stage — Color fractures, land stretches, his breath thickens —
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He fights through it.
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Straightens his jaw.
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His mallets lie in the mud.
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The big bandit raises his club to smash Paul’s skull —Paul kicks his ankles out, sending the giant back, crashing down face first into a belly flop.
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Paul recovers his breath. Rising to one knee.
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Green aura erupts from the earth, flashing upward like roots snapping through soil.
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He hunches forwards.
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Haymaker jab.
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The skinny bandit bites it —Teeth shatter —
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He turns and kicks the big bandit in the chest before he can fully recover.
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A soldier screams desperately nearby — wrestling a bandit by the wall. Paul grabs his only axe from his back waist & hurls it.
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The axe whistles like a moving symphony in his ears, connecting. The hatchet buries itself in the bandit’s spine. A colorful painting splatters across the stone.
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The soldier gasps in relief —
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Paul stumbles forward, trying to stay focused in the dim lit night. He retrieves his mallets slowly —
walks towards the fire at the back of the fortress like a wrathful spirit.
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Two of the three red eyed assassins retreat to the general’s wagons.
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One stays behind, on top the center watchtower.
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His eyes are brighter than the others. He looks below and sees bandits clashing with soldiers amongst an inflamed forest.
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He looks behind him, bandits load the last bundles that they can carry. Generals whip reigns, their wagons stuffed with cabbage.
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Multiple horses storm away with the stolen goods, mud and grass spiking as they gallop away. Bandits cling to the escaping convoys.
He turns his head again — he senses something.
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His eyes widen behind his mask covering.-- Eyes bulging a neon ruby, almost diamond like. He watches the chaos below him.
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Waiting.
Hunting.
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- MIDDLE OF FORTY ACRES-
The sky cracks open.
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LIGHTNING.
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A white vein tears across the clouds, lighting the entire fortress grounds for a single, blinding heartbeat.
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Metro walks toward the archway.
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Not running.
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Not sprinting.
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— walking.
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Cloak dragging behind him, wet and getting heavier.
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Two dagger hilts are clutched tight in his hands, eyes sharp, locked on the burning forest ahead.
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The rain hits him sideways.
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The wind pushes against him.
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The world is chaotic — fire, screaming, smoke — but he moves forward like he's underwater.
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Another flash.
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LIGHTNING *
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For a moment Metro’s face flashes white — framed against the burning forest.
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Paul’s green aura can be seen from a long distance tree line.
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Yelling is heard faintly, the clashing of metal, and more shouting.
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Metro’s jaw tightens. His breath shakes.
Sally’s white glow pulses like a light beacon.
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His heart is a drum. He whispers to himself.
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Metro:(whispering)
“Sally . . .”
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He steps forward. The mud splashes under his boots. The smokey fog hits him, the glow leaf's thick scent, heavy, intoxicating—but he keeps moving.
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Lightning flashes again. Metro’s eyes reflect the fire. He continues forward, sprinting towards her.
Metro: (shouting, voice cracking)
“SALLY!”
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Sally whips her head towards him—eyes wide, hooves stamping violently, breath steaming in cold rain.
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Metro reaches her, grabbing the reins with shaking hands.
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Metro: (urgent, panicked)
“You gotta get outta here! Come on!”
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He pulls. She doesn’t move.
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Metro yanks, harder voice rising.
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Metro:
“I said c’mon! MOVE!”
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Nothing.
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She plants her hooves deeper in the mud.
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Metro’s fear spikes, he’s shaking, soaked, exhausted, terrified.
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